Watching paint dry
by cornwallace
Summary: "You can't say we didn't try."


She uncorks the wine bottle and refreshes her glass before handing it over to him. "I think it looks pretty good," she says, taking a light sip. "I think it's gonna look pretty good."

"It's fine," he says, yawning, filling his glass up before setting it back on the stand next to the loveseat they're sitting on. He hands her back the bottle, she corks it and sets it next to her glass on the matching stand on her end of the couch. She looks at the walls and picks up the glass by the stem to have another sip.

They've taken everything down from the back wall in the den - the one with the windows that the Tv sits in front of. The Tv and it's stand have been moved. It's the only wall they've painted. They settled on Periwinkle, or maybe I should say they grabbed a paint can from the garage almost at random after a conversation that went nowhere. They took everything down, moved everything away from the wall, collected some rollers and trays and got to work. Now they sit back and admire their handiwork - watching paint dry.

Sonic breaks the silence after gulping his wine. "I didn't always feel this way?"

"Mm?" She says, swallowing. "What way?"

"Bored, detached. Distant. I dunno what's wrong with me."

"We're not in love," she says flatly, almost with a lack of interest.

"We don't fight any," he says. "We get along fine."

"I don't think either of us feel like anything's worth arguing over."

"Is that bad?"

"Maybe. Arguing is bad but it's also an effort. Do we not argue because we're so compatible or do we not argue because it's not worth the effort?"

"I guess you have a point there."

"I guess I do."

He stares into his drink. His dark red wine glowing with the natural light coming through the blinds. "You really don't love me anymore?"

"You don't love me," she says, chewing on the inside of her cheek, bored.

"I dunno," he says. "I do but like. I dunno. I guess we've become one of those brother/sister couples. I love you as much as I've ever loved anyone but there's no passion there."

"That's a fair way to put it," she says. "Don't take it hard, though. You're a great guy and all, you're just so incredibly boring.

He laughs in response. "Hey, right back at'cha."

They both take a sip.

Sonic breaks the silence again. "So, why are we still together?"

"I dunno," she says, crossing her legs underneath her. "It's easy I guess."

"It'd be weird not having you around."

"Yeah.."

"But if we don't love each other why stay together?"

"I dunno. You wanna get a divorce?"

"I dunno," he says. "Should we?"

"Probably."

"Isn't divorce supposed to be messy?" he asks timidly.

"I don't think anything in this house is worth fighting over. We're both basically set for life. Most this shit is replaceable."

"Fair point. Where would you go?"

"Emerald Coast," she says, draining her glass and setting it down, stretching out across the loveseat, her head in his lap. He feels uneasy about holding a wineglass over her face so he sets his down. "The ocean beckons me. You?"

"I dunno. I might travel a bit. Visit Knothole again. Go see Mercia. Land of a Million Lights."

"You hate traveling. Where the hell have you been?"

"Haha, why? You wanna stay married now that it involves traveling?"

"Not really. Coast is where I'll lay my head."

"It's been awhile, it might be refreshing since I won't have anything to come home to. I can just kinda wander, drift. See where it takes me before settling down somewhere practical."

"I think that's a good idea," she says, closing her eyes. "I think it'll be a rewarding experience for you."

"You think?" he asks.

"I think," she repeats.

"I bet you can already smell that ocean," he smiles.

"Dude. I can always smell the ocean. In college, they called me Ocean Smelling Amy. I was the rootinest tootinest ocean sniffer this side of the United States of Columbia. People come up to me like - 'hey, Amy. What's the ocean smell like today?' I say chump, you know what's up. The ocean smells like the ocean. And I can smell it."

"Shut up," he says, trying to stop himself from smiling. "Please, just shut up."

"You asked," she says cheekily.

A pause. "Let's do it."

"Hrm?"

"Let's get divorced. This doesn't have to be a bad thing, right?"

"Not at all."

"We're friends. We're adults. Let's just do it, let's get divorced. No ill will or bad feelings about it."

"Okay."

"Man. Ten years. Was it a waste?"

"I don't think so."

"No?"

"Yeah, like I said. You're fine. I could have spent the past ten years with someone worse."

"We tried."

"We did, didn't we?"

"Yeah. We tried. It's gonna be okay."

"Can't force nature," she says.

"Can't," he agrees. "It's impossible."

"Do you remember our first date?"

"Ha. Yeah. I asked you what you wanted to do and you said you didn't care, you'd be fine watching paint dry as long as we talked."

"So you invited me over to paint your office, you cheeky little turd."

He laughs. "I thought I was clever."

"You were pretty clever."

"Interesting how things come full circle like that, isn't it?"

"The Goddess of Cosmic Irony shines on your life like a spotlight on center stage, lad."

" _Dancing With the Politicians_ is coming on in about half an hour."

"What a shit show," she says, getting up and examining her empty glass.

"That's why we watch it," he says picking up his own and draining it.

"I suppose," she says, pouring another. "What do you wanna do for dinner?"

"I'll make fideo if you want."

"Sounds good."

* * *

Sonic dreams he is in a boat, catching fish and throwing them back.

Amy dreams she is on a plane and she isn't sure where it's going but she's interested in finding out.

Sonic dreams he's running again, running like he did when he was a kid. When he didn't need a reason, he just ran.

Amy dreams of smashing watermelons with her mallet.


End file.
